


We Were Built to Fall Apart (And Fall Back Together)

by Humanitys_Shortest_Soldier



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Calls & Telephones, Post Ketsu, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanitys_Shortest_Soldier/pseuds/Humanitys_Shortest_Soldier
Summary: After a year of peace, Shizuo starts having nightmares about his final fight with Izaya. He always expected Izaya to come back, but as more time passes, the guilt starts to eat away at him. Without a whisper of Izaya's name in the city, Shizuo starts to wonder... did Izaya finally give up and stay away for good? Or is Shizuo the monster Izaya always accused him of being?





	1. Monster

**Author's Note:**

> Finally some Shizaya! Man, I've been wanting to write for these two for a while now! I've had the start of this in my drafts for a couple months now, but I was super nervous, lol. I love this ship so much, and it took me playing around a bit to get comfortable with their characters, and now here we are! Chapter one is a little short, but chapter two is already done, and its almost twice as long? So be on the lookout for that soon! 
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading! Enjoy! <33

Shizuo was going for a walk. 

He didn’t have a destination in mind. Just wandering aimlessly through the streets of ikebukuro, a cigarette in hand. It was a clear day out, hardly a cloud in the sky. 

It was perfect, the kind of day that he enjoyed the most. And to make it even better, his mood was just as calm as the blue sky. He felt peaceful, for once. He clung to the feeling, not knowing how long it would last.

Despite the good weather, he was surprised he hadn’t seen many people out. The sidewalks were oddly empty, the roads quiet. 

Actually, now that Shizuo thought about it, there was  _ no one anywhere _ . He stopped in his tracks, looking around him. 

Nothing. No one. Not even a whisper, or the distant honk of a car or bus. 

He shrugged, and continued walking. It wasn’t any of his business. If the population of ikebukuro wanted to miss out on the sunshine, then that was their problem.

He kept going, glancing in the windows of shops as he passed. Neon signs flashed ‘open’, but when Shizuo peaked inside, they were all just as empty as the streets.

With a flick of his cigarette, he crossed the street, and moved on. 

The wind blew, tousling his hair. It felt nice. It really was a beautiful day out.

Except for the noise that he could now hear. It started off as a quiet sort of hum that he barely noticed, but the further he walked, the louder it seemed to get. 

Shizuo crossed another intersection, and it sounded  _ really _ weird now. Like a roar. He would almost think he was near the ocean if he didn’t know any better.

He rounded another corner, and the noise grew even louder. Whatever the hell it was, it was really starting to piss him off. He almost thought he could hear voices, but of course, there was no one around. 

Another intersection. Another turn, this time down an alleyway. 

At the end he made a right, stepping onto a sideroad, and came to a startling halt. 

People crowded the streets. Hundreds of them, blocking the road from building to building. Shizuo looked behind him, and found even more people waiting there. 

Their mouths were all moving. Apparently they were talking, but Shizuo couldn’t pick out what they were saying. It was like they were all speaking at once, their voices running together.

That was the sound, Shizuo realized. The sound of hundreds, maybe thousands, of voices. 

And they were moving, taking slow steps towards him. They moved together, in a way that reminded him of a horror movie he caught on TV the other day. Sort of robotic. Mindless

It was creepy as hell, and he was getting sick of it.

“Hey,” Shizuo growled in warning. “Back the fuck up.” He looked over his shoulder again, and saw those behind him were moving towards him too. 

He pointed an accusing finger. “What the  _ fuck _ is going on?” Still nothing. He balled his hands into fists. “Would you all  _ shut up _ ?” he shouted. “If someone doesn’t tell me what’s going on—”

_ “Monster.” _

Shizuo froze. Did someone just…?

_ “Murderer.” _

_ “Killer.” _

It was them, Shizuo realized. The people in the crowd. Their individual voices became clearer the closer they got.

“You killed him,” another voice spat.

“Always knew you were a monster,” someone hissed. 

Shizuo’s hands, which had relaxed in shock, turned to fists once again. “Fuck off!” He took a step forward in anger. “I never killed anybody!”

“Liar.” Shizuo found the owner of the voice, a man he didn’t recognize near the front. “His blood is all over your hands.”

Shizuo glanced down, and his stomach lurched.

His hands were red. A vibrant, bloody red. It dripped from his fingertips and caked in the lines of his palms. He could even smell it, sharp and metallic in the air. 

He stared at his own hands in horror. “I—I didn’t do this,” he choked out. “I don’t know where—”

“You did,” a chorus of voices told him. “He’s dead, and it’s all your fault.”

“No.” Shizuo protest weakly. His head spun, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“It’s true,” a voice said, and Shizuo whipped around to look behind him. He recognized that voice. 

Shinra stood at the front line, his expression cold and hard. Shizuo had never seen him look like that. 

“It’s true,” Shinra repeated, and dread settled in Shizuo’s veins. “You killed him, and the whole city was there to see it.”

Shizuo frantically shook his head again. “I wouldn’t… I didn’t mean to!” he shouted. 

“You didn’t  _ mean _ to?” Shinra sneered back. “He was my friend, and now he’s gone because of you.”

“I—” he started to say. But then he stopped, as Celty appeared next to Shinra.

She was holding her head in her hands, the eyes open but dead looking. The mouth moved, though, and she spoke clearly enough that Shizuo could hear.

“He was right all along,” she said. “He called you a monster and he was right. We should have listened to him sooner.”

The words hurt him more than any physical wound ever had. Celty was his friend, always on his side. But now…

The crowd was closing in on both sides. They were so close now, blocking the way except for the alleyway behind him. Shizuo looked at his bloody hands, the accusing words echoing in his head. 

“Murderer.”

“You should be dead, not him.”

“Monster.” The voices were so close. “Monster.” The word was becoming a chant, until it was all he could hear. “Monster monster  _ monstermonstermonster _ —”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Shizuo turned on his heel, ready to sprint back down the alleyway, far away from here.

A figure lurked at the end of the alley, making Shizuo skid to a halt a few feet in. Whoever it was, they were cast into shadow, just a vague human-shape. 

The person staggered forward, stepping out of the darkness and revealing a tattered fur coat that Shizuo recognized immediately.

Izaya Orihara stood in the middle of the alley. 

It was undoubtedly Izaya, but the more Shizuo stared, the more wrong he began to look.

Blood dripped from his mouth, running down his chin and smearing against his neck. He held his arms out to his sides as he walked, announcing his presence just as grandly as he always did — except this time, both his arms were bent at unnatural angles, in a way that shouldn’t be possible…

And Shizuo felt it, suddenly, all at once. He remembered his fist flying, and Izaya rushing to block. He remembered the feeling of bone crunching under the weight of the blow, the sound of them snapping into pieces

Izaya took another step, and this one brought him right up to Shizuo, his face now fullying visible in the light. 

Shizuo’s stomach rolled, his breakfast threatening to come back up.

Izaya’s face was grotesque. His eyes were clouded over, blank and lifeless. His skin was so pale it almost looked blue, like there was no blood running through his veins. Like maybe all his blood was on Shizuo’s hands instead.

He stared at Shizuo with unseeing eyes, and his lips split into a smile. His head rolled back in an unnatural position as he laughed into the air.

All at once he stopped, his head snapping forward. His hair hung over his face, and he took one more, broken step forward. He lifted his hand, reaching towards Shizuo…

He whispered two words, dragging themselves hoarsely out of his mouth.

_ “Shizu-chan.” _

Shizuo bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. His apartment was dark, and it took him a second to remember where he was.

Not in an alley. Not in the middle of Ikebukuro.

Not staring down the corpse of Izaya Orihara.

Safe. In his room. Alone.

His hands felt gross. He pushed himself out of bed, stumbling into the bathroom and turning the hot water on. He scrubbed at his skin, trying to wash away the blood he couldn’t see. 

When the water burned more than he could stand, he shut it off. He was careful to avoid looking at his reflection in the mirror as he left the bathroom. He didn’t want to see the monster in his eyes. 

Shizuo pushed the rumbled covers away and sat on the edge of the bed. He grabbed his cigarettes off the nightstand, shaking the pack and placing one between his lips. With the spark of a lighter, he lit the end, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs.

_ It was just a nightmare _ , he told himself as he exhaled. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers.  _ Just a stupid nightmare _ .

It was stupider still, considering this was the third time this week he’d had this nightmare. Or some twisted version of it, anyway. 

He’d been having them for months now, and they didn’t seem to be going away. 

Shizuo hadn’t seen Izaya since their fight over a year ago. He didn’t know where he went, other then that when everything had cleared out, Izaya had been gone.

He hadn’t seen or heard from him since. And from the little he’d asked, no one else had either.

It was nice, at first. Shizuo walked the streets peacefully for the first few weeks, confident that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of a fur coat or hear a grating laugh. The gangs stayed holed up, the city was calm, and life continued in a way that Shizuo had always dreamed about. 

But as those couple of weeks turned into months, Shizuo started to brace himself again. A high pitched laugh, the flash of dark clothes and even darker hair, all had him turning his head in the streets, fully expecting to see Izaya behind him, that same shitty smirk on his face.

Because Izaya  _ always _ came back. No matter what Shizuo threw his way, no matter how far Shizuo chased him away, Izaya came back every time.

Until now.

It was seven months after the fight that Shizuo first wondered if Izaya was dead. 

He immediately dismissed it as impossible. Izaya was a flea, a fucking cockroach that could survive a damn nucular blast. He’d survived Shizuo’s wrath for nearly a decade now, and always came back smiling and ready for more. 

But Izaya had never stayed away this long before. Even more odd, Shizuo couldn’t find any evidence of his shitty meddling either. 

Nothing. Not ever a whisper of his name. 

Shizuo shoved the thought away. Or he tried, anyway. Ikebukuro was quiet these days, calm in a way that he always wanted. It seemed without anyone pulling the strings, the scum of the city did a decent job at keeping themselves out of trouble, for the most part. 

_ Was Izaya dead? _

He couldn’t be. Shizuo remembered the fight clearly, now that he thought about it. He could remember seeing Izaya walking and running through the streets. Swinging his knife. Smirking and taunting, just like always…

_ Did I kill him? _

It took another month before he worked up the nerve to ask Shinra. And even then, he didn’t ask what he  _ really _ wanted to know.

He was getting to leave Shinra’s apartment, having joined him and Celty for dinner and a movie. He paused at the door, his fingers gripping the handle. 

“Hey… Shinra?” he said, tentatively. His heart thudded in his ears. He kept his eyes forward, not turning to meet the curious stare he could feel boring into his back.

“I was just wondering…” He cleared his throat, buying time. “Have you heard from him at all? Izaya?”

The name burned his tongue a little on the way out. He hadn’t spoken it in almost a year. 

There was a long pause. “I haven’t,” Shinra finally said, and Shizuo’s heart dropped. “I sent him a message a few months ago, and again more recently, but I haven’t gotten a response.”

“Oh,” Shizuo breathed. 

Shinra laughed, and he spoke in his usual chipper tone. “Oh well! I’m sure you must be relieved. You’ve been trying to get rid of him for years and now he’s finally off ruining someone else's life!”

Shizuo bit back a wince. “Yeah,” he muttered in agreement, and shoved his way out the door.

What Shinra said bothered him more as time went on. Izaya and Shinra were friends. Shouldn’t Shinra be worried about him?

But the more Shizuo paid attention, the more he noticed that no one seemed to be worried about Izaya. No one at all. 

Didn’t anybody care? 

Even quieter, a thought in the back of his head asked,  _ why do I care? _

He didn’t, Shizuo told himself. Life was good, and quiet, and Izaya Orihara was the last thing he wanted to waste his time thinking about. 

So he didn’t. Or he tried not to, anyway.

Exactly one year after the fight, Shizuo had the first nightmare. He dreamt of Izaya’s funeral, with no one in attendance. He had stood over Izaya’s grave with blood on his hands while the city applauded and cheered all around him. 

_ Shizuo the hero. Shizuo the savior. Shizuo the killer. Shizuo the murderer, the beast, the monster… _

Since then, Shizuo had nightmares more often than not. The people of the city, who greeted him warmly during the day, always turned against him in his dreams. 

He was starting to feel like he deserved it. 

Shizuo hated Izaya. Always had, since the moment he first saw him. He still hated him now. It wasn’t that he wanted him back. It wasn’t that he regretted what he did.

He just wanted to know he wasn’t the monster Izaya always accused him of being. 

Shizuo glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. It was early enough that he didn’t bother going back to bed. The sun would be rising in a few hours anyway. 

Instead, he made his way back into the bathroom, stripping his sweaty undershirt and boxers off on the way. 

He let the water warm up a bit before stepping under the spray. As he watched the suds swirl around the drain, he tried to picture the images from his nightmare going down with them. 

Not that it would help. The way things were going, he’d probably see them again tonight anyway.


	2. Puppeteer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait! I had a few touch-ups to make on this chapter before it was done, but I think I'm happy with it? This chapter is a bit longer than the first, and hopefully a bit more interesting. Also I wanted to say thanks for all the feedback on the first chapter! Enjoy, and I'll see you guys soon! <3

_ That one looks like… a dolphin. No, maybe a whale? A shark, definitely... _

Shizuo sat on a park bench with his head tilted back, watching the clouds float by. He was passing his lunch break picking out shapes in them, enjoying the nice weather. 

The wind rustled through the trees, blowing strands of his hair in his face. He swatted them away, mindful of the cigarette between his fingers.

A noise interrupted the peaceful quiet. It sounded like the purr of an engine, but also strangely like the whinney of a horse…

Shizuo tipped his head up just in time to watch Celty pull up on her motorcycle. She waved briefly before typing on her PDA, holding it out for him to read.

[Care for some company?]

“Sure,” Shizuo said easily. He slid down the bench, making room. Celty sat beside him, crossing her legs and typing again.

[Working today?] 

He nodded. “I’ve got time though. Tom-san doesn’t expect me back for another thirty minutes at least.”

[Trouble tracking the guy down?] Celty asked with a tilt of her head.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Already checked out two addresses, but no luck. Tom-san thinks he might know of a third.” He stubbed his cigarette out in the against the bottom of his shoe. “What about you? Are you working today?”

Celty nodded. Her fingers flew over the keys. [I have two more deliveries to make. I was on my way back from Shinjuku when I saw you.]

Shizuo’s hands tightened at the name. An old reflex, he supposed. “That’s pretty far out.”

[Ugh, I know] Shizuo barely had enough time to read it before she pulled her PDA back. She flipped it back just a quickly, her fingers tapping the keys. [I almost forgot my way around. I haven’t been out that way since—]

She yanked the device back before Shizuo could finish reading, but he didn’t need to. He knew what the rest said.

_ Since the last time I saw Izaya. _

The image from his dream came back in full force. He remembered the mob of people, with Celty and Shinra at the lead. The words the dream-version of Celty had said echoed through his head. 

_ ...We should have listened to him sooner… _

Shizuo flinched against the words. He felt some strange mixture of both anger and embarrassment. It was just a dumb dream. There was no way Celty r _ eall _ y felt that way.

Right?

Something touched his shoulder, and Shizuo looked up. Celty pulled her hand back, gently turning her PDA back towards him. 

[Are you okay?] The text read. [You look a little rough.] She pulled back, typing rapidly. [No offense, of course! Just worried, that’s all.]

Shizuo laughed a little, even as he held back a wince. For someone without a head, Celty was surprisingly good at reading him. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the concrete between his feet. “Just been having a little trouble sleeping, I guess.”

He briefly regretted saying that last part. He hoped Celty would let it go, and not ask him why—

[What’s been keeping you up?} She flashed the screen again. [Anything you’d like to talk about?]

Shizuo sighed, his mouth pressing into a flat line. He did wanna talk about, even if the whole thing was stupid. Maybe it would make him feel better.

Or a lot worse, if Celty reacted like she had in his dream. 

He lit another cigarette, hesitating. He stomach twisted as he debated where to start. Anxiety wasn’t an emotion he was use to dealing with, and it drove him crazy that it wouldn’t just fucking  _ go away _ . 

“I just…” he paused, furrowing his brow. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Do you think he’s dead?” he asked quietly. “Izaya. Do you think I killed him?”

It was harder to say the words out loud than he expected. Izaya’s name was bitter on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it, other than when he asked Shinra about him a few months ago. His name alone used to make Shizuo’s hands curl into fists, his temper flaming to life. He wasn’t sure how the name made him feel now. Definitely not angry. 

Celty took a long time to respond. She would type, and then pause for a moment before deleting what she’d written. This happened three or four times before she finally turned the screen for Shizuo to read. 

[I can’t say for sure. I’ve tried to reach him a few times, but the number I have for him has been disconnected.] Shizuo wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did Izaya shut it off himself? Or was it turned off because it wasn’t being used…

[I know he was alive when he left Ikebukuro.] Shizuo continued reading. [I tried to do what little I could to help. I used my shadows to help his wounds, until it was too far for me to reach.] That was news, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

Celty pulled her PDA back, typing again. She hesitated being showing him. 

[He wasn’t in good shape, Shizuo. And Vorona certainly didn’t help at the end. As far as humans go… after all that… I wouldn’t be surprised if he was dead.]

Shizuo read the message. And then read it again. His heart sank in his chest.

Was Celty confirming it then? Was Izaya really dead because of him?

Did this mean he was a monster after all?

Celty typed something else, and Shizuo struggled to read it. 

[But if anyone could survive all of that, it would be Izaya. He’s survived plenty before, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he survived this.] Celty reached out and lightly touched his shoulder as he kept reading. [And Shizuo… even if Izaya is dead, I hope you know that absolutely no one would hold it against you.]

Shizuo flinched a little. He bunched his shoulders up and glared at his hands, watching the ember slowly burn down the length of his cigarette. 

He heard the tapping of fingers, and then Celty held her PDA in front of him again. 

[He tried to kill you, Shizuo. He’s been ruining your life for years, and this wasn’t his first attempt on your life either.] He knew that, had lived through it for years. But it didn’t seem to matter much when he thought about Izaya rotting away in the ground somewhere. 

[Izaya knew what he was getting into when he picked that fight. All of Ikebukuro knew it. We all watched it for years.]

Shizuo didn’t know what to say to that. He knew it was probably true, but it didn’t really make him feel any better. Not when those same people turned into an angry mob in his dreams each night.

[You’re not a monster, Shizuo. Whether he’s alive or not, Izaya decided his own fate.]

Celty squeezed his shoulder again, and Shizuo let himself relax at the touch. He lifted his gaze, finally meeting Celty’s eyes. Or well, her helmet. 

“Thanks Celty,” he said, trying to offer a smile. He did feel a little better after listening to her, despite not having any answers. 

At least she didn’t think he was a monster. 

[I’m always here.] She assured him. Her fingers flashed over the screen again, and she showed him the text a little warily. [I gotta say, I never thought I’d see you losing sleep over Izaya.]

Shizuo huffed a laugh. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

He pushed his hair back from his face, looking up to gaze at the clouds again. There were more of them now, turning the sky overcast. 

Celty changed the subject then, and they spent the rest of his lunch break talking about work. He asked about Shinra, and Celty launched into a tale about the vacation plans he’d come up with for next month. 

Shizuo laughed along with the story, feeling better than he had in awhile. He wished he would have talked to Celty about all this sooner; she usually knew the right things to say. 

Despite all that, he still woke up that night soaked in sweat, his fingers trembling slightly from the horror of his own imagination. 

He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers over and over as he tried to slow his breathing. This was all so fucked. 

What was it going to take for him to stop having these damn nightmares? Izaya had already ruined his life enough for the past ten years. It didn’t seem fair that Izaya was still haunting him, whether he was dead or had finally decided to disappear for good. 

_ I just need to know he’s alive, _ Shizuo thought desperately. Not even that much—he didn’t give a shit if Izaya was dead. 

He just needed to know he wasn’t the one who killed him.

**\----------------------------------------**

  
  
  
  


Shizuo stared at the phone in his hand.

His fingers hesitated over the screen, his brow furrowed. He’d been trying to convince himself to click on the name for a good five minutes now. 

Izaya’s name—well, Shizuo’s nickname of  _ ‘fleabag’ _ — was printed under his thumb. Shizuo had to scroll to nearly the bottom of his message history to find it. 

The date told him their last message exchange was from three months before the fight. Shizuo tried to remember what it was, but he generally tried to block out most things involving Izaya. 

He did remember changing his number the first time Izaya ever texted him. Shizuo had chased him down the street, his phone crushed into a ball in his fist while Izaya laughed. 

He’d changed his number four more times after that before finally giving up. If Izaya wanted his number, then nothing was going to keep the bastard from finding it. 

Shizuo took another hit off his cigarette, exhaling and letting the smoke fan across the screen. He stubbed it out in the ashtray, heaved a sigh, and clicked on Izaya’s name. 

Their message history blinked into place. Shizuo’s brows rose in surprise when he saw that the last message was an image, sent from Izaya.

He clicked on the photo, enlarging it on his screen. It looked like it was taken at a restaurant, at a booth near the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was angled to show the street below, a corner of shops Shizuo knew pretty well. 

He looked closer, squinting at the people he could see in the street. His eyes were drawn to a flash of bleach blond hair, standing out in the crowd…

Shizuo recognized himself pretty easily, waiting at the crosswalk down below. 

The memory came back in a flash. He remembered that day now with perfect clarity. It was late afternoon, and he’d just gotten off work. Instead of taking his usual way home, he’d decided to stop by and pick up some takeout on the way. He’d been waiting at a street corner when his phone buzzed, that god-awful name popping up on the screen.

After finding himself in the photo, Shizuo had quickly spotted the vantage point where it was taken, and had stormed into the two-story cafe in a rage. He tore through half of the seating area before realizing that Izaya was nowhere to be found. Come to think of it, he was probably on his way out before he even sent the picture in the first place. 

Shizuo stared at the photo for a long time. It made him feel really strange to think about that day. It felt like it had been a lifetime ago, instead of only a year and a half. 

He was mostly surprised that looking at the picture didn’t make him feel angry anymore. Instead he felt exasperated, and maybe a little sad, for some stupid reason. 

Izaya was always able to bring out the worst in him. That shithead had taken and sent that photo for nothing more than to piss Shizuo off. And then he left, knowing that Shizuo would storm into that building and throw and smash things, reinforcing the image in everyone’s mind that he was the monster Izaya always said he was. 

Shizuo scrolled through the messages a little more. Almost all of them were sent from Izaya, mostly images of the city, but Shizuo knew if he looked closer he would be able to find himself in the background. He kept swiping, his chin resting lazily in one hand, until he came to another photo that stopped him dead in his tracks. 

It was a picture of Izaya. He’d flipped the camera around on himself, one arm disappearing off screen to hold the phone. His other hand was up near his face, making a peace sign with his first two fingers. His eyes were closed, his lips stretched in a huge, shitty smile that showed his perfectly white teeth. Over his shoulder, Shizuo could see the back of his own head off in the distance.

Shizuo furrowed his brows as he gazed at the photo. A large part of him was still full of the urge to punch that stupid fucking smile off the flea’s face. That feeling was familiar, and made him feel almost normal. But there was another part of him that was thinking about how this was the first time he’d seen Izaya in over a year. 

This was all he had, Shizuo realized. This picture and these messages were the only proof Shizuo had of Izaya’s existence. And the nightmares, he supposed. 

Was Izaya still out there, existing somewhere? Or was it over, all because of Shizuo…

Maybe it was the guilt. Or the nostalgia. Or some fucked up combination of the two. Maybe he just wanted more proof of Izaya’s existence, that it hadn’t ended with Shizuo after all. 

Whatever the reason, Shizuo clicked back to the messages. His finger hovered over the little phone icon next to Izaya’s name for a fraction of a second before he tapped the button. 

He lifted the phone, listening as it started to ring. His pulse drummed loudly in the ears. What if the call said the line was disconnected, like Shinra had said?

It rang two more times, and then there was a click. Shizuo’s breath caught in his throat as he waited. 

_ “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please record your message after the tone.” _

Shizuo blew his breath out all at once. The line was still on, not disconnected. Did that mean it was still Izaya’s? Or had the number been assigned to someone else?

He didn’t have time to think. There was a robotic beep, and then a span of silence for Shizuo to fill. 

“Uh, hi,” he began stupidly. “I, um—” He stopped. This was so dumb. He didn’t even know who he was talking to. And even if Izaya was alive to hear this, what would he even say? “Sorry. I, uh… I think I have the wrong number.”

Shizuo hung up angrily, chucking his phone into the corner of his room. None of this mattered anyway. Izaya was gone, and Shizuo had the peace he always wanted. He didn’t care if Izaya was dead, or if he’d been the one to kill him. His friends obviously didn’t give a shit, so why should he?

He got ready for bed, trying very hard to keep his mind anything Izaya-related. He didn’t think about about the phone call, or Izaya’s shitty grin in the photo in his message box. He thought about work, and what he needed to get from the store tomorrow, and a million other things before he finally drifted off to sleep. 

The next thing he knew, he was running. He sort of recognized he was in Ikebukuro, but it didn’t really matter. 

Something flashed in front of him, rounded the corner ahead of him, and suddenly Shizuo realized he was  _ chasing _ instead of  _ running _ . Which suited him just fine, as far as he was concerned. 

He pushed his feet against the pavement, gaining on the person in front of him. He couldn’t really make out any details yet, just the vague shape of a person disappearing around buildings ahead of him. 

Shizuo drew closer, and he could make out some details now. The person had thin, long legs, and their top half was shapeless, fluttering out behind them. Sort of like they were wearing a jacket, with fur around the edges...

He knew that jacket. Shizuo’s mouth twisted up in a smirk as he forced himself to go faster. Knowing the identity of the person in front of him made it easier.

He was gaining on him now. Izaya had his hood up, obscuring his features, but Shizuo didn’t care. He was so close to catching him, closer than he’d ever been before. If he stretched his arm out he could almost grab the back of that ugly coat.

Shizuo took the next corner a little tighter, closing that last bit of distance. He extended his arm, pushing off with his foot and lunging forward in a desperate attempt. His fingers grasped the fabric, and he skidded to a halt. He yanked back, and flung Izaya backwards on to the ground beneath him. 

Izaya shakily propped himself up on his arms. He tilted his head up to face Shizuo, his hood falling down, revealing his face.

Shizuo’s entire world dropped out from under him. 

Because it wasn’t Izaya. Not his arch enemy, not the person he spent years of his life chasing. But it was a face he recognized all the same.

It was the woman from his childhood, the one who worked at the little shop him and his brother used to pass on their way home from school. The one who would pat his head and give them little snacks and drinks sometimes. 

The one he had tried to save, when a couple of bad guys were giving her a hard time. 

He tried to help her. But in the end, all he did was end up hurting her. That was the first time Shizuo truly felt like a monster. 

She looked up at him now with fear in her eyes. She lifted a hand, shielding her face. Like she was afraid he was going to hurt her.  _ Again. _

Shizuo knelt down in front of her. He wanted to tell her that she was safe, that he would never do anything to harm her, that it had all been an accident, all those years ago. 

Instead, Shizuo found his right hand balling into a fist. He stared at it in confusion. Why was he doing this?! He didn’t want to hurt her! Why would he--

Shizuo’s arm cocked back, on its own accord. He grabbed onto his wrist with his other hand, fighting against it. That’s when he noticed it - a thin, clear string looped around his wrist, leading straight up. 

He tilted his head back, following the string and looking up. 

Izaya towered above him, huge and menacing against the dark sky. In his hand he held what looked like a large wooden cross, with several strings running off of it. 

They all ran down to different parts of Shizuo’s body, he realized. LIke he was connected, somehow. Under Izaya’s control.

Like a puppet. 

Because that’s all he ever was to Izaya, wasn’t he? Just a mindless beast to do whatever he wanted him to. Like storming into a cafe, or ripping up street signs in the middle of the city. Everything was always calculated to draw attention, so everyone would see and everyone would know what a monster he was…

Izaya laughed, and tilted the wooden piece. Shizuo winced and turned to look at the woman, surprise coloring his expression when he saw that she was gone. Instead it was  _ Izaya _ in her place,  _ Izaya _ cringing on the ground beneath him, fear like Shizuo had never seen written on his face.

Shizuo turned to stare up into Izaya’s eyes, the controlling one above him. His lips twisted up in a sinister smirk, sharp at the edges. He laughed again, and opened his mouth.

“Do it, monster.”

He jerked the cross in his hands, and Shizuo felt his arm strike forwards--

Shiuzo jerked awake where the impact of the punch should have been. His chest heaved as he struggled for air. His clothes and sheets were soaked with sweat, his hair matted to his forehead. 

His mind was racing. His hands were shaking, and he needed to do  _ something _ . 

He scrambled out of bed, reaching madly for the phone in the corner of his room. He snagged it off the floor, relief washing over him when he saw it wasn’t broken from him tossing it earlier.

With trembling fingers, he keyed through his contacts. He didn’t hesitate to press the ‘call’ button when he found the name he wanted. 

The line rang. And rang, and rang, and rang. After what seemed like forever, the voice asked him to leave a message. The second he heard the beep, Shizuo was already talking. 

“Izaya.” He didn’t even know if it was him, but he didn’t care right now. “I’m not sorry, Izaya. I’m not.” He swallowed thickly, his voice shaking. “But I— I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have listened to you, when you told me to do it, and that’s my fault. I shouldn’t have…  _ fuck _ , Izaya, why’d you tell me to do it? You knew I would, I always do what you tell me! Why did you—”

There was another beep, the line cutting him off. Shizuo lowered the phone, staring numbly at the screen. Had he really just said all that?

He felt better in a way, which was really stupid. He thought about Izaya listening to the message, and wondered what he would think. He’d probably laugh, Shizuo decided. It seemed like Izaya was always laughing about something. Usually at Shizuo’s expense. 

Come to think of it, he’d probably think it was hilarious, knowing that Shizuo was having nightmares about killing him. _ “Getting soft on me now, Shizu-chan?” _

Shizuo huffed a dry laugh. Everything was so fucked. But thinking about Izaya laughing at him and teasing him did make him feel a little better, in a strange way. 

Probably because if Izaya was laughing, that meant he wasn’t dead. 

**Author's Note:**

> I take prompt requests! You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://humanitys-shortest-soldier.tumblr.com/) if you want to send something in!
> 
> And [here](https://twitter.com/HUMANxLAMPSHADE?lang=en) is my twitter for more news on writing updates! I've been posting sneak peeks on future works here!
> 
> Thanks again for reading! See you soon! <33


End file.
